No Way To Know

I frequently reflect on the inherent limitations of describing spirituality or reality.

While my purpose in writing this blog is often to explore and articulate my thoughts on these topics, the primary intention is to engage in a dialogue with myself. I write to process ideas, consider concepts, and revisit “Aha!” moments that I wish to examine further at a later time.

Nonetheless, I recognize the inherent inefficacy of these attempts. I often liken the endeavor of analyzing or describing reality to a dog attempting to comprehend and describe my actions when I leave for work. My dog has no way of understanding what occurs during my absence, and any attempt she might make to interpret my day will be fragmented and shaped by her limited cognitive capacity. She may imagine I spend the day at a dog park or lounging on a larger couch—ideas that, while appealing, fail to reflect the true nature of my activities. Her understanding is constrained to her perspective as a dog.

Similarly, every spiritual teaching or lecture is fragmented because human comprehension is inherently limited by the constraints of our own minds. It is worth noting that nearly all attempts to convey reality center on the human experience. Rarely, if ever, do we encounter a discourse on reality from the viewpoint of a tree, for example. Yet, while humans are integral to the fabric of reality, we can never fully grasp reality from the perspective of other life forms, such as trees, whose experiences are just as vital.

Even within the human community, each individual’s understanding of reality is shaped by their personal experiences. For instance, a person who is deaf will have a vastly different perception of music than someone with hearing, while someone who lacks sight will experience touch in ways that those with sight cannot fully comprehend. Our capacity to understand reality is further influenced by the language we speak and the cultural context in which we are raised. A person raised in India will likely have a different understanding of consciousness than someone raised in East Tennessee, United States.

It is a fundamental mistake to assume that any of our descriptions or interpretations of reality and spirituality are complete or exhaustive. While I do not believe that attempting to communicate our understanding of reality is inherently futile, I do believe that we must acknowledge that all such attempts are inherently flawed. Each effort is an incomplete and imperfect reflection of a reality that is infinite and beyond full human comprehension.

Personally, I prefer to experience reality without the constraints of words or thoughts, holding the understanding that I can never fully know or grasp what is happening. To reach a point where one believes they fully understand is, in my view, a dangerous place to be. It is wiser, I think, to remain in a state of “unknowing,” where the limits of our understanding are acknowledged and embraced.

Beyond Appearances

“Do not judge by outward appearance, but judge with righteous judgment.” – John 7:24 [New American Standard Bible]

In spiritual work, we often need to “translate” appearances into deeper truths. This process can face resistance from the mind, which constantly seeks logic, reason, and tradition. While these are useful in the physical world, the mind isn’t always the best tool for understanding the spiritual realm.

I see spiritual study as the pursuit of understanding the “essence” of reality. Many people may feel uncomfortable with the word “spiritual” because of its religious associations. They may argue that there is no spirit, but most would agree that all life has an essence. At some point, we’ve all sensed that there is more to the world than what meets the eye. For example, we can see and touch a rhinoceros, but we can also imagine one—a rhinoceros that exists only in our mind.

Spiritual translation can be more complex than that, however. Imagine receiving a gift from a four-year-old that looks like a crumpled lump of clay. “It’s you, Daddy!” they say. Though it may seem like nothing more than a lump of clay, you can easily look past its appearance and see the love behind it. This gift represents pure love, and it’s why you keep it for the rest of your life. Seeing the love in something that appears broken or imperfect is kind of what it means to “judge with righteous judgment.” It’s spiritual translation. Appearances, on their own, often fail to capture the true essence of reality.

When you experience something spiritually, don’t be too concerned if your mind starts questioning it. With time, you’ll learn to ignore the mind’s doubts. The mind is focused on appearances, so it isn’t always helpful in spiritual matters. Still, part of translating appearances spiritually is reaching some kind of understanding with the mind. “Yes, I see that it looks this way, mind. I understand your point.” Your mind will insist that a lump of clay is just that—a lump of clay. It will argue that you are only the body you see before you. Yes, it does appear that way, but there’s more to it.

Stay aware that the true nature of any situation is almost always beyond its outward appearance. Just like desert mirages or train tracks that seem to meet at the horizon, appearances can be deceiving. The truth is often hidden behind the surface. The mind will try to convince you that life is made up of separate individuals, objects, thoughts, and events happening at different times and places.

But the simple reality is this: everything is just awareness being aware of itself.

Meditation Is Doing Nothing

meditation

When I meditate, I’m not trying to “do” anything. I’m not pushing for something to happen, and I don’t expect anything to happen either. Meditation is just about aligning myself with what already is. It’s about being aware of the present moment—the truth of “nowness.”

When I sit to meditate, I’m letting the fog of unawareness fade away so I can see things as they really are. This “is-ness” is reality—it’s always there, whether I notice it or not. There’s no need to change, add, or force anything because, honestly, I wouldn’t know how to do that even if I tried.

All I can do is align my awareness with what’s already happening. That’s it. That’s what true meditation is all about.

You Are Not Less Than!

You Are Not Less Than by Rick Baldwin

We’ve been led to believe, by those who don’t truly understand, that we are less than we are. People who repeat what they’ve been told—without questioning it—have convinced us that we are flawed, limited, imperfect, and broken.

You have the power to decide what to believe, but I urge you to question those beliefs and examine the truth for yourself. Don’t let someone else’s limited view of themselves define how you see yourself. Look within and discover the reality of who you truly are.

Who are you?

You are not your body. Your body is limited, ever-changing, and destined to return to the earth from which it came. If you believe you are your body, you’ll feel limited, temporary, and mortal.

You are not your mind. Your mind, too, is limited and ever-changing. Like the thoughts it produces, it will eventually fade into nothing. If you believe you are your mind, you’ll feel impermanent and insubstantial.

If you are neither your body nor your mind, then who are you?

Look deeper. Notice the Presence within you—the unchanging essence that has always been there. This Presence is timeless and ageless. It’s the silent witness that perceives through your eyes and speaks loudly in your stillness. That Presence is YOU.

This Presence is your true essence—your Spirit. But it’s not just “yours”; it is pure Spirit, the Spirit of God. How could you ever have been convinced to think you’re less than perfect when your very being is divine?

When you truly recognize who you are—when you see, feel, and know your true self—no one will ever be able to take that understanding away from you. In truth, they couldn’t take it before, but now that you’re aware of it, you’ll never let it go. It has always been there, always perfect, and always YOU. It cannot leave or be extinguished.

Take time to turn inward and dwell in this awareness. Observe what happens as this sense of Presence grows and becomes more permanent in your life. You’ll soon realize that you are far more than you ever believed—and far more than anyone ever told you you were.

There Are No Choices. There Is Only Doing.

Choices

The mind thrives on duality, constantly presenting us with choices: this or that, here or there. It convinces us that we are the decision-makers, charting a path forward. But is this truly what’s happening in our experience?

We often view life as a linear, pre-scripted “movie” where every choice we make determines the next scene. We imagine life as a story with a set beginning, middle, and end, where our decisions dictate the outcomes. But this perspective is misleading. Life doesn’t unfold like a “choose-your-own-adventure” novel; it arises moment by moment, unbound by predetermined scripts or maps. Even when choices seem to appear, the truth is there are no choices—there is only doing.

You might be thinking, “What does that even mean? I make decisions all the time!” Let’s explore this idea with a few examples.

The Fork in the Road

Imagine you’re a traveler on horseback, arriving at a fork in a dirt trail. The left path looks longer and more difficult; the right path seems easier but might lead to unforeseen challenges. Your mind creates elaborate scenarios: thieves on one path, safety and rest on the other. You deliberate endlessly, convinced that each path represents a fully formed “life-movie” waiting for you to step into.

The reality is simpler. Life isn’t about choosing between pre-scripted paths. It’s about the unfolding of now. The mind’s illusion of choice distracts us from the truth: there are no pre-existing scenes, just the action that arises in the moment.

The Illusion of Relationships

Consider a more personal scenario: choosing between two partners, Terry and Alex. Your mind imagines entire futures with each person—where you’d live, whether you’d have children, what life would look like. But those imagined futures are just that: imagination. Life doesn’t offer prewritten scripts where one path is “Terry’s story” and another is “Alex’s story.”

If you marry Alex, that’s what happened. The “choice” wasn’t real—it was simply the unfolding of events. Speculating on what life could have been with Terry is just fantasy. The concept of “what could have been” is a construct of the mind, not reality.

Coffee or Tea?

Now imagine you’re at a coffee shop, asked whether you’d like coffee or tea. You choose coffee. Could you have chosen tea? No—because in reality, you didn’t. The mind might create an alternate scenario where you order tea, but that’s pure imagination. What’s real is what is—the coffee you ordered—not the imagined possibilities of what might have been.

The idea of choice exists only in the mind. In reality, there is only action. When you chose coffee, it wasn’t because of some deep preference or calculated decision—it simply unfolded in the present moment.

Living Beyond the Illusion

As humans, we will always experience the illusion of choice. It’s part of the human condition. On the spiritual path, however, we can learn to see through this illusion. While we may still appear to make choices, our awareness allows us to understand that life is simply the unfolding of actions in alignment with our highest sense of what is right.

For example, we don’t “choose” not to steal or harm others. We simply act in accordance with what we know to be right. As our awareness deepens, this alignment becomes more natural, requiring less deliberation or mental struggle. The mind’s chatter fades, and our actions arise with greater harmony and clarity than any imagined choice could achieve.

By releasing the illusion of choice, we free ourselves to experience life as it truly is: an unfolding present, guided not by the mind’s dualities but by the seamless flow of awareness and action.